


still, i will love you softly

by koroshiyas (lucitae)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, fairy tail/bnha au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17337923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/koroshiyas
Summary: The sun sets slowly over Dubrovnik like the dawning of a realization.Seungcheol watches as the man he loves strokes the feline that purrs contently in his lap and thinks about revisiting this old town under a different context.





	still, i will love you softly

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe it took me years of shipping them, tons of gaming vlives, and this one [video](https://twitter.com/likeyoulikehim/status/1077177118830686209?s=21) ( that ran me over, emotionally, like a steam roller ) to finally write for them? me neither.
> 
> this fic is a mess and unbeta'd. proceed with caution.
> 
> bless this comeback for being a treasure chest of moments.
> 
> do me a favor and imagine [this](https://twitter.com/summerwalk_9596/status/1086638514555432960?s=21) wonwoo. thanks.

The sunset causes the red rooftops to glint, adding contrast to the white exterior walls. A pity the city walls are closed off half an hour before the sun sets. Seungcheol can imagine how it must look from the vantage point of the tower or the observatory by the cable cars. The water glistening as the sun sinks below the horizon: a reminder as to why it was named the pearl of the Adriatic centuries ago. The feeling of serenity enveloping this stone city like the walls that embrace it — the very reason why it was never conquered. The winding cobblestone roads and hidden alleys, perfectly designed to let air flow, paying homage to how advanced this city state was.

Seungcheol navigates through the Stradun, making his way from the city hall back to the large Onofrio’s fountain. He muses with the thought of the cities people herald as the pinnacle of civilization drowning in their own filth as Dubrovnik created their own functioning sewage system and quarantine process. How the Republic of Ragusa is only ever mentioned in passing in history books. How the world teems with its own biases and will what he’s doing here ever amount to anything?

Shadows grow longer. The owl in the wall, near the Franciscan monastery, becomes a little more menancing — challenging onlookers to try their luck in love. The stains in the wall where countless hands have tried and failed loom; taunting.

The last rays of light play with Wonwoo’s hair. The curled locks he’s recently gotten glisten almost auburn with this touch of gold. It draws attention to the thick wire frame of glasses and the curl of lips as deft fingers stroke the chin of some feline that has managed to garner his attention. One of the many stray that wander ( and protect ) this city, Seungcheol notes as he watches from a distance.

There are others skirting on the fringes. Dutifully watching, wary of this man who has managed to charm a fellow resident, but lingering to see what he will bring.

His hands are empty; full of affection. He brings water. Kibble he's prepared beforehand with a balanced diet in mind. Seungcheol toys with the idea of balancing on top of the owl shaped gargoyle head and taking off his shirt.

It passes but he knows the expression on his face is one of fondness.

Gold bleeds out. Blue seeps in. The lights begin to turn on. The Christmas lights that have yet to be removed add celebration to the atmosphere. The entire fountain is swathed in a warm yellow glow but all the lights seem to focus on Wonwoo. The contours of his face sharpened under the combination of light and shadow, adding the sort of allure one can’t turn away from.

It reminds him of their days from school, back when they were mentor and mentee. How Wonwoo dragged him out long past curfew without a care in regards to school rules. To where the land embraced the sea. And there they watched the hatching of  _bixi_  and their first journey toward the sea. _Bixi only give birth every once in a millennia or so they say_ , Wonwoo justifies. His eyes reflecting the twinkling expanse of stars above.

Wonwoo looks up, dark eyes almost dancing, as the cat with its eyes closed in a crescent smiles arches to have its head patted by the heart of Wonwoo’s hand. Seungcheol meets his gaze and smiles.

Wonwoo turns back to the creature as Seungcheol closes the distance.

“Thank you, little one,” Wonwoo says as he gives the cat one last pat before turning towards Seungcheol. One of his eyes are amber ; the other electric blue. The smirk he pairs it with almost has Seungcheol stopping in his tracks.

He doesn’t.

Instead he gives the cat one last glimpse, noting the heterochromatic trait of the feline as it takes up residence in the gargoyle's mouth.

A little practice before the big game. After all, a small and precise shift is harder to maintain than a large consuming one.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asks with an easy grin as Wonwoo’s eyes transition back to their normal shade.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

* * *

 

Wonwoo crouches, feet barely touching the ledge of the city wall, floating above this historic city . The ground is a dizzying distance away. Even Seungcheol who has a normal tolerance of heights finds goosebumps creeping up his neck when he takes a glimpse.

Wonwoo has changed out of his clothes ( the leather jacket paired with skinny jeans ) into something more comfortable. A light cotton shirt and matching pants that can stretch and tear if necessary. Woozi has yet to find the perfect fabric that can adapt to Wonwoo’s quirk.

There are already two long gashes in the back of Wonwoo’s shirt. From them two magnificent raven black wings protrude.

Smoke parts from his lips like a wordless prayer. Some form a small ring and rise above the head mimicking a halo. An orange glow held between his fingers. Two taps and ashes are carried away by the winds. There’s boredom written all over his expression — a little act put on for one individual only. So Seungcheol calls him out.

“Show off.”

Wonwoo’s smile grows Cheshire.

“Took you long enough,” he retorts as he stands. The city sprawls beneath him. A thousand tiny dots of orange splattered behind him invoking the imagery of an impressionist painting as Wonwoo raises his arms to the side and steps off the ledge and towards Seungcheol. It is breath taking.

“Not everyone can sprout wings and fly,” Seungcheol grouches.

“I did offer to carry you,” Wonwoo points out.

“And what a sight that would be. Perhaps a raise in believers for a certain religion,” Seungcheol jokes and delights in the way Wonwoo laughs, nose scrunching and eyes disappearing behind crescents. It’s not a great one ( no doubling over or excited hand claps ) but there is always next time.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t have the opposite effect?” Wonwoo says in return. “I’m not the traditional depiction of a seraph.”

“You’re right,” Seungcheol says as Wonwoo gestures at his wings. “Where are your four other wings?” Seungcheol allows his eyes to widen and gasps for extra measure. “Are you a _fallen_?” he whispers scandalized.

Wonwoo purposefully levitates as he crowds Seungcheol against the nearest wall. “What if I was?” Wonwoo counters.

The expression on Wonwoo’s face renders Seungcheol’s mouth dry. There’s this urge to pull Wonwoo in by his hips or to spread his legs a little wider for Wonwoo to slot his knee between.

But there’s a 100-year job that waits to be completed. So Seungcheol says instead: “did you see anything?” facing away from the brilliant city and towards the islands on the periphery.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo answers as he steps closer, shoulder brushing Seungcheol’s as he points. “A cloud of miasma enveloping Lokrum island. It wasn’t there during the day so we can only assume it rose with the night.”

A dark purplish haze in the distance that rises like steam vents from the island off the coast of the mainland. Seungcheol frowns. The curse of Lokrum doesn’t seem as simple as the act of a monster. Seungcheol fetches the yellowed mission parchment, reviewing the details once more.

“Following the closure of the monastery and expulsion of the Benedictines — the monks circled the island thrice and chanted a terrible curse as they left behind a melted trail.  _Whosoever claims Lokrum for his own personal pleasure shall be damned!_ ” Seungcheol reads and paraphrases the rest: “The curse took hold. Nobles died. Some went insane. Although there is no concrete evidence we like to think there’s a fixable source. Payment of an outrageous amount.” Seungcheol looks to the horizon once more and shakes his head. “I think it’s a curse.”

“Yet a man showed up two days ago claiming he stared into the creature’s beady eyes with his own and left a fatal wound on it,” Wonwoo reminds Seungcheol gently of why they embarked on this journey in the first place. “And claimed he had the right to half the award for weakening it so.”

“He seemed delirious.”

“He also survived attempting a job most people perish trying, albeit very badly injured,” Wonwoo counters and then says more softly: “we can’t give up on the possibility of a creature being the root of it all.”

His wings have been tucked in. His shirt billows in the wind as his eyes remain distant ; set on Lokrum island.

“If that is the case, are we doing the right thing?” Wonwoo turns to meet Seungcheol’s eyes. “Lokrum island has been free from habitants since people started to believe in the curse. Once removed that island might be reduced to yet another human infested exotic resort. Especially considering all the attention it has garnered from Game of Thrones.”

“But if there is a creature, like the man claims,” Seungcheol says, tone gentle, gauging Wonwoo’s expression “other mages _will_ finish the job. No one else relocates. ‘Monsters’ are meant to be slayed — misunderstood or not.” 

“Anything that is inconvenient to humanity is regarded as something that has to be eradicated,” Seungcheol finishes.

He holds Wonwoo’s gaze and can almost feel the sigh that Wonwoo exhales, reminiscent of the the smoke from his cigarette.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Wonwoo says with an expression tinged with sadness. “We have ourselves a monster to catch.”

 

* * *

 

Seungcheol coughs. There’s a stench accompanying the cursed island that is only amplified in potency as they make their way in. Seungcheol finds himself thinking of the boat ride here. How the water glittered like the coins at the bottom of a fountain. How wishes had been tossed in the faith that they will somehow be fulfilled. Why not a bigger sacrifice? Why not your entire being? Venture into the depths of such waters and try to grab a token of faith for yourself.

Seungcheol coughs again. Fingers tingling and becoming more painful as if his synapses had been damaged and his body is trying to repair itself.

“This is bad,” Seungcheol says, alarmed, “I thought the miasma was hallucinogenic but it’s a toxin that attacks the nervous system. I’m barely keeping up.”

Wonwoo isn’t listening.

“What sort of human would raise a dragon from the dead and bind its soul to its rotting carcass?” Wonwoo mutters as he forges ahead, deeper and deeper into the thick of purple.

Seungcheol tries to keep up and ends up colliding into Wonwoo when he stops abruptly. He sees what Wonwoo had been mentioning. The source of the miasma and the stench prowling. It’s skin tattered, flesh torn, bone bared in some parts. It’s been dead for many many centuries and yet still animated. Newer wounds drip. The creature guards its territory mindlessly.

“Maybe we should let it rest in peace,” he finds himself saying for the first time. Never once had they given up on a creature since the creation of this guild.

“There’s no harm in trying,” Wonwoo says.

There is something wrong with the way he says it. Jaw locked and fist clenched like he can’t decide between punching Seungcheol for suggesting that or stabbing the creature in the gut. His eyes are wild. As if he could snap in the next moment.

He’s breaking down faster than expected. Seungcheol fishes out a clear vial from his bag.

Wonwoo notices and screams: “No!” hand sweeping in a wide arc to keep Seungcheol away, heavily defensive. Claws protrude and break the skin of his knuckles, imitating Wolverine before inhuman experimentation.

“We only have five!”

One would be enough to cure an individual on the verge of death. Surely the creature didn’t need all of them if they were just going to try to revive it. But Seungcheol doubts he can reason with Wonwoo in this state. So instead Seungcheol pretends to put it away, placing both of his hands in the air as he approaches Wonwoo slowly.

Wonwoo is wary. If he had shifted into another form perhaps Seungcheol would see the hair standing on his neck.

Seungcheol proceeds with caution and tries to lower Wonwoo’s defenses in chit chat and reassuring him of leaving all five doses for the rotting carcass in the distance.

But time is ticking. And judging from the miasma’s toxicity Seungcheol doesn’t have much time left so he attacks Wonwoo by grappling him.

Both arms are securely locked around Wonwoo’s torso. “I can’t let you die on me.” He tries not to let his tone dip into a plea but knows it is a futile attempt.

“This might sting a little,” Seungcheol warns as he preps the vial for injection.

Wonwoo thrashes, trying to get out of Seungcheol’s grip. Spines start protruding out of Wonwoo’s back in the attempt to make Seungcheol back off. It pierces skin. The puncture wound depeening as Wonwoo’s elongates his defense mechanism. Seungcheol clings on and bites off the cap of the needle  before stabbing it into Wonwoo’s arm.

He throws it to the side as he continues holding onto Wonwoo. The thrashing intensifies and Seungcheol tries his best to soothe Wonwoo the way Wonwoo did when Woozi broke Seungcheol’s arm down to the cellular level in the attempt to create this vial. Seungcheol rocks Wonwoo slowly, whispering _it’ll be alright_ and _I’m here_  again and again. And again.

The screams fade after a while and never once has Seungcheol been more grateful for his quirk when the madness clears from Wonwoo’s eyes.

Streaks of violet spreads from the injection site, running through veins, infiltrating Wonwoo’s system, and ends up pooling in his irises. Woozi’s time tracker is now fully functional. They have an hour — give or take — before Seungcheol’s quirk is flushed from Wonwoo’s system.

“You okay?” Seungcheol asks as Wonwoo stumbles to his feet, smiling brightly to distract Wonwoo from the holes in his shirt. The wounds have already closed up without a scar but guilt manifests regardless if you were of sound mind or not.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies, voice shaky. His eyes settle on the state of Seungcheol’s shirt and clenches his teeth. An apology about to be made but then swallowed down because he knows what Seungcheol will say and there are bigger tasks at hand. “The usual?” Wonwoo asks, forcing his expression into the resemblance of a smile — an attempt to reassure Seungcheol that he is fine.

“Let’s switch it up.”

Wonwoo’s tone drips with sarcasm when he says: “I love being decoy.”

Sometimes Seungcheol still catches himself marveling at how easy they slip into their normal dynamics. It fits comfortably like a second skin.

He stretches. Seungcheol can hear the joints pop as Wonwoo transitions. Limbs thickening and lengthening. Skin slowly overtaken by scales as he transitions into a _ryuu_. 

It’s a form Seungcheol hasn’t seen in a while. But probably used for its weight class and the body’s ability to twist.

Wonwoo charges at the source of this curse and knocks it into a nearby tree ( or trees because the creature’s falling body clears a path ). The clash continues as the creature sinks its teeth into Wonwoo’s dragon form. The roar resonates through the island.

Seungcheol scrambles to his feet and preps the remaining vials, looking for the opportunity to inject them. It doesn’t come. Wonwoo is a great decoy but the sheer size of the two makes it hard for Seungcheol to get a clear shot.

Wonwoo butts the creature in the head. But then falls to a sweep of a tail swiping at knees. The thuds echo. Seungcheol is barely avoiding damage but there’s not much time left. The bright purple in Wonwoo’s eyes have started to darken into magenta. Having to heal large injuries ( another chunk ripped out and replaced ) and fight the miasma is overloading his body.

Seungcheol grits his teeth and charges.

Wonwoo must have caught him from the corner of his eye because he swishes his tail towards Seungcheol, allowing him a lift as Wonwoo launches Seungcheol at the creature.

Wonwoo twists his form around the creature, strangling it with his serpent like body, leaving a clean opening for Seungcheol.

With two vials in each hand, Seungcheol stabs it into the flesh ( or what remains ) of the creature.

He falls but Wonwoo is there to catch him ( as always ).

The creature howls in anguish as it stumbles backwards. It’s entire body convulsing as its tattered wings shield it from view.

But the wing starts to repair itself, sealing itself close. The miasma begins to clear. The stench starts to fade. And the creature starts to unfold and stretch itself out.

What is left when darkness is gone are golden eyes filled with warmth.

“Thank you,” the creature — no, _drakon_ — says in a dulcet tone, “for restoring me and severing the contract. I will forever be in your debt.”

“Does this mean you are free from your duty?” Seungcheol interjects.

“Yes,” The drakon nods. “But I also desire to preserve my home land. Died protecting it. It was why my soul could be summoned from beyond the realm of the living. Why my blood was able to be bound to this soil.”

”So you’re going to stay?” Seungcheol questions, baffled.

“Yes.”

“What about protecting it from afar?” Seungcheol tries otherwise this entire mission has been conducted in futility. A restored body does not mean immortality. “Countless of mages will swarm to this island. You’ve been sighted and portrayed as defeatable.” 

The drakon merely laughs, unalarmed.

“They can not touch me,” it says, “I was not of sound mind.”

Seungcheol clenches his fist, refusing to cease — not when they’ve come so far, not when he has almost lost Wonwoo. “They won’t stop until one side is annihilated. Greed is a powerful motivator.”

Wonwoo steps in at this point. “We’re not asking you to relocate to some hidden paradise,” he tries, “We just want you to be safe.” Seungcheol can feel the sincerity in his tone, surely the powerful creature can too.

“Daksa island isn’t too far from here,” Wonwoo says, gesturing at the uninhabited neighboring island. “The ‘curse’ can remain, while erasing the rumors that you exist. And no one — mortal or mage — dares step onto Daksa.” And Seungcheol now realizes that Wonwoo has been working on this plan since his first step onto the island. The preservation of this place that upholds the last wishes of Benedictines monks and keeping this creature alive and still connected to its beloved land.

“You can feel it too can’t you?”

“How can I not?” the dragon replies. “I sense more than humans and even you can feel all the deaths.” It closes its eyes as if listening to the voices of those who were massacred on the island.

When the drakon finally opens its eyes, it says: “I’ll take the offer but tell me, child, why will you go so far for me?”

“Why not?” Wonwoo answers simply as he raises a hand to touch the drakon who lowers its head for Wonwoo to do so. And once an understanding has been reached, two pairs of eyes — both the color of molten gold — land on Seungcheol. The weight of it almost tangible.

Seungcheol shrugs, uncertain. “Because I’m against senseless slaughter?” The disappointment that settles in Wonwoo’s eyes forces him to expand. “Because I’ve always had this nagging feeling that there is something wrong with the system. That coexistence can be an option. And all this fearmongering can end one day.”

It’s jarring the way Wonwoo’s look of pride is accompanied by the mocking laugh of a drakon.

“Spoken like true naive heroes,” it says, thoroughly entertained. “Perhaps we’ll meet again when the world becomes as you desire it to be, my child.”

 

* * *

 

The train rocks side to side as it speeds across the tracks and towards its destination. The hands that knock together from all this jostling stay in contact. Wonwoo rests his head on Seungcheol's shoulder as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone with his free hand. All of a sudden a laugh. The kind that bubbles from the bottom of the heart. Clear and crisp as if he has started to unwind and relax from today’s events.

Wonwoo shares the source of his outburst with Seungcheol, seemingly noticing the interest that colors Seungcheol’s expression. It’s always been like this. Something unspoken. A sort of care that is shown more often than said. And it is all that matters, Seungcheol finds himself thinking as something warm blossoms in his chest.

“Chan texted me earlier,” Wonwoo explains as he shows Seungcheol the text.

 **[ chan ]** r u and seungcheol hyung dating?

 **[ wonwoo ]** yes

“I answered him. Apparently it was part of a bet and he won. And now they are coercing him into treating them for a meal with the money he won from the bet.” Seungcheol can almost hear the slight snicker in Wonwoo’s tone of voice. “No one believes we are dating.”

Seungcheol frowns. “I don't know if I should be happy or sad.”

Wonwoo slips his fingers into the crevices of Seungcheol’s hand and flips them for a firmer hold. “Maybe we should be more obvious.” The grin that dances on his lips a mischievous one, matching his tone.

“I thought I was,” Seungcheol whines.

“Chan says it’s because we seem closer to others than with each other.”

“Just because you are romantically devoted to someone doesn’t mean you drop all your friendships.” 

Wonwoo nods. “I told him that. Less eloquently.” There’s a pause before Wonwoo says, quiet this time: “I like the way we are.”

Seungcheol takes in the man next to him. How time has only sharpened his features, but softened his personality — allowing himself to open up to others. The ways in which he has grown into himself: comfortable and confident and beautiful.

The silver earring that dangles from one of Wonwoo’s lobes catches the light of the moon and glints, reminding Seungcheol of the matching one in his own ear.

He revels in how far they had come. And unable to resist the urge, Seungcheol turns to kiss Wonwoo’s temple without jostling him too much. Wonwoo scrunches his nose in distaste.

“Why would you do that?” Wonwoo says as he glares at Seungcheol from beneath his bangs. “I smell like dirt, smoke, and dead dragon’s breath.”

“Because I wanted to.”  
( Because there's this emotion so often sung about in songs that threatens to gush out of him but it’s too embarrassing to say right here, right now. )

Wonwoo’s expression is that between a grimace and a smile. It’s cute. Almost makes Seungcheol slip up.

There’s a soft sigh that escapes his lips, one drenched in fondness as Wonwoo raises their intertwined hands and brushes his lips against Seungcheol's ring finger. Seungcheol raises his brows. 

“What was that for?”

Wonwoo is coy. “Because I wanted to too.”

The laugh that bubbles out of Seungcheol is one that only Wonwoo can bring out of him. He nestles his head on top of Wonwoo’s, squeezing the hand of his beloved, before closing his eyes and letting the train take him away from the pearl of the Adriatic.

**Author's Note:**

> anyway dubrovnik is fascinating and is not just a game of thrones filming site. some articles i used while writing this are linked [here](https://www.total-croatia-news.com/lifestyle/24517-get-to-know-dubrovnik-s-fountains-practical-beauty) and [here](https://www.total-croatia-news.com/destination-dubrovnik/21280-the-dark-side-of-lokrum-curses-mystery-and-premature-death) and [here](https://coolinterestingstuff.com/the-curse-of-lokrum-island) and [here](https://www.total-croatia-news.com/news/23187-dubrovnik-foreign-media-interested-by-sale-of-daksa).
> 
> second scene with "angel" wonwoo was inspired by this [amazing art](https://twitter.com/incorrectjunhao/status/1069804783110889472?s=21). i know they wanted m**nie but sweats i hope no one is offended.
> 
> come talk to [me](https://curiouscat.me/lucitae). i’ve been on this ship since 2016.
> 
> title taken from yoneda kou.
> 
> the universe may or may not get expanded upon.
> 
> as you can probably tell: wonwoo's powers are like beast boy (d.c.), s.coup's is like deadpool or wolverine (marvel), and woozi's is like kai chisaki (bnha: the ability to disassemble and reassemble). the fairy tail part comes from the mage and guild system. the bnha part comes from existing academies in this universe that prep "mages" (individuals with "quirks") to being picked up by higher level mages. seventeen is more of a rogue guild that will be explained if i ever get to it (don't hold your breath).


End file.
